Dedicated: Net
by corneroffandom
Summary: When Heath's attempt at capturing El Torito fails, it's up to Wade to fix things.


Heath Slater flails around desperately after his attempt to catch El Torito on that week's Main Event fails, only succeeding in tangling himself up in the large net even worse. "DAMMIT!" he cries out, glaring around at the people surrounding him he can just see through the thick ropes, growing more and more angry as he realizes that even Drew McIntyre and Jinder Mahal are keeping their distance, looking clueless about what to do as he thrashes, making it even harder to reach him. Falling into frenzied curses, he tries again to free himself just to worsening the situation he finds himself in, the ropes stuck in his hair and making it even harder to breathe or think- he starts to wonder if he's going to suffocate himself, when...

"Oh, bloody hell," a familiar accent snaps, its owner pushing through the crowd of people to get to Heath, who'd dropped to his knees during his struggle to catch his breath. "Are you imbeciles truly going to just stand around and watch him kill himself? Get out of the way, for-" He finally quiets as he reaches the struggling man, resting a hand on his shoulder and keeping him in place until he realizes what's going on, who's kneeling next to him.

"Wade," he mutters, trying to look up. "Please... get me outta here..."

The Brit looks up and around at the various superstars, referees and divas lurking around, smirking and whispering to each other. His eyes grow cold and angry as he lunges back up to his feet, rounding on all of them. "Get out of here _now,_ you gits!" As they scatter a few feet away, he drops back down next to the younger man and shakes his head. "How in the bloody hell do you manage to get yourself in these scrapes _so_ often, Ginger?" he demands, finding the frayed edges of the rope and trying to see which way it goes. "You successfully have it caught in your hair. We might need to cut it."

"No!" Heath moans, tugging on his sleeve through the ropes. "C'mon, man- it-"

"I'm kidding," Wade grumbles. "...I think..." Heath tilts his head and glares at him. "Sit still," Wade snaps, tapping him roughly on the side of the head, "or this will just catch even worse." He pulls out a pocketknife and slits it through the more visible strands of rope, being very careful not to knick Heath's skin or clothes, knowing how much work he puts into his gear. It is a slow, tedious job, and Wade's surprised that Heath doesn't squirm more, but he stays very still, Wade checking on him now and again to ensure that he's still conscious and breathing. "Hanging in there?"

"Yeah." Heath relaxes bit by bit with every piece of rope that disappears from his line of sight, sighing softly as Wade finishes with his head and shoulders, moving up to the parts tangled in his hair. Wade smirks as he tenses all over again, worse than before, and works as quickly and efficiently as possible. It takes almost ten minutes to get every last strand out of the bright orange hair, smiling slightly as Heath's breath tickles his throat. "Almost done," he mutters, running his fingers through Heath's hair a couple of times. Finding no signs of the net remaining, he nods and pulls away. "There you go, all better."

Heath looks up at him for a moment before shaking his head, sending his hair every which way. Everything feeling normal once more finally, he grins widely and tackles Wade in a hug, suddenly trembling violently. "Thanks, Brit. No one was helpin', and I was gettin' kinda scared, the ropes were gettin' around my throat and..."

"I know," Wade sighs, patting his back. "It's ok, I'm here. You're fine."

"I'm glad you were." He rests his head on Wade's shoulder for a moment, still feeling a little dizzy at how quickly everything had happened. Sitting up, he looks into Wade's eyes and smirks, cupping his face and kissing him, right then and there, without caring who may or may not be watching. "I love you, Brit."

"I love you too, you Ginger git," he responds. "Now, no more trying to net some runt of a bull, alright? If you _do_ somehow succeed at catching him, I'm not feeding him. And I doubt Boodah would like him much either."

"Who said I was gonna keep 'im as a pet?" Heath scoffs. "I was gonna drive him out into the country and let 'im loose far, far away so he couldn't find his way back." Wade stares at him in disbelief and he smirks. "What?"

"You are such a ridiculous, ridiculous man." He shakes his head and sighs, kissing him thoroughly to keep him from vocalizing any other weird thoughts rattling around in his skull before Wade's moved past the last.

"But you like it," Heath mutters against his lips, knowing by his soft smirk in response that Wade can't deny it.


End file.
